Archemi #7: First Draft Opening

Five thousand feet below my position, the city of Lovi burned.

Pillars of flame boiled unchecked into the sky from the once-white towers of the palace. Muzzle flash from artillery lit up the streets in waves of twinkling lights, the rolling boom of mortars reduced to pops and bangs by the distance. The simmering carcass of Ilia's defeated flagship, the Sol Invictus, was still alight after weeks of neglect. Its magitech engines belched clouds of toxic smoke into the haze that hung over the city like a mourner's veil. Ilian airships had encircled the walls, raining death down on the rebels fighting house-to-house in the streets. We had arrived in the nick of time.

"Second Fleet is in position, all commanders reporting in." Suri's voice, as calm and disciplined as always, purred over group audio link. "Wind holding steady, no signs of interception. Ilian airwave traffic is going crazy according to the intel guys.  Waiting for your signal, chief."

A mixture of ash and snow slithered over the smooth face of my helmet, my armor, and over the scales of my dragon as she glided toward those burning city walls. Behind us, another two hundred dragons swooped down from the gloom. White, blue, green and silver, they silently glided over and around each other to form arrow-shaped formations behind us.

"We're closing in. Have the spooks get on radio and inform Ilia that their 'reinforcements' are incoming." I squeezed the grips of Karalti's saddle, venting the pre-combat tension through my hands.

"10-4. Stay on the line. All officers copy." Suri muted herself, no doubt to start the flooding of hijacked Ilian communications channels. Those channels were magical in nature, spell-based 'radios' pioneered by Rutha of Vasteau, the former Court Sorceress of Ilia. Rutha was currently in the belly of the Second Fleet capital ship, coordinating the hacking of those same channels.